Becoming Harley Quinn
by RosesInSolitude
Summary: A more realistic take on Dr. Quinzel and her twisted relationship with the Joker. DISCLAIMER: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the aut
1. Chapter 1

Harleen sat rigid behind her brand new desk at Arkham psychiactric ward. She had only three weeks experience at the facility before she was thrown into the most difficult case any therapist could have. Of course, the reasons were obvious. Noone wanted to tackle him and noone knew how. And it was clear that all of the college courses and extra preparation for this field could provide none of the sheer back-bone needed to face him.  
Initially, she turned Dr. Arkham down. Harleen was completely unprepared to deal with such a character and could do no better than a therapist who had been working with murderers for years. She was simply too inexperienced. He never let up ,though, and managed to convince her that this would be the most important experience of her career, especially if she could break through to him. Imagine!  
If it proved to be impossible then he would transfer her immediately. No questions asked. Dr. Arkham felt new blood in the institution with fresh ideas might be just what the Joker needed. And he didn't have much other choice considering two of his best therapists threatened to walk out if he wasn't taken off their hands. Harleen didn't know that and likely didn't realize how dangerous the Joker was...even though guards were always stationed outside the door and his wrists were shackled tightly together. The Joker was intimidating and had close bonds with his outside thugs. His colleagues were afraid for their families lives and Harleen was single and lived alone. Her family was all the way on the other coast and, although that didn't guarantee safety, it made it harder to hurt them.  
Dr. Arkham kept this all to himself as he coaxed Harleen into taking the case. She was young enough not to question him too much and more willing to believe in helping the Joker than the others. She was driven and open minded, graduated at the top of her class.  
He hoped this would work.  
Harleen fiddled with the paperwork arranged neatly in front of her. There were newspaper clippings she'd collected of some of the Joker's robberies and murders. Each article depicted him as a cold hearted lunatic with no emotion beyond a hideous sense of humor. The DA had even sent her a few photographs on Monday of some of his victims. Nameless men and women stared back at her with crude smiles carved on lifeless faces. Their eyes remained wide in horror, though clearly dead. She shuddered and pushed the papers away, focusing on steadying her heart rate and breathing.  
She could do this, it wasn't so bad. He was only a man after all...not a monster. No matter how horrific his killings it didn't make him anything more than a man. One with a sick mind that could certainly be treated.  
Harleen repeated that little mantra to herself a couple times before there was a sharp rap on the door. Without waiting for an answer it swung open as two large guards hustled a man between them. They placed him rather roughly onto the leather couch at the head of her desk and left without another word. She knew they'd be standing right outside the door, ready if anything went wrong but it didn't make her feel better. The Joker slumped on the seat with his wavy shoulder length hair hiding his eyes as he stared at the floor. The cuffs dangled between his knees as his hands were clasped together. Harleen was shocked to see that he was allowed to still wear the greasepaint and slightly tinted green hair. It took away from the average patient image and fed into the demonic outside persona he had. It all served to unsettle her that much more.  
She cleared her throat and he looked up, his green/gold eyes piercing through her. It surprised Harleen to see how clear they were and not foggy like most of Archams patients. Medicine ws usually given to everyone to keep them calm and that was the general effect but it didn't show in the Joker.  
"I'm Dr. Quinzel and I'll be your new therapist." She started.  
He said nothing and made no attempt to be friendly, only slouched back into the couch and tilted his head slightly.  
"I'd like to keep this first session as more of a...'get to know you' type of process. No quizzes, word association or deep questions for now."  
His tongue darted at the scars on his mouth in that trademark fashion before speaking up.  
"You know what really makes me happy?" He asked.  
"What?"  
"To look at those guards out there..." He motioned to the door, cuffs clinging together, "and remember how many of their friends I killed last week. And to imagine how many more I'll kill this week." He smiled and continued looking at her, unwilling to let go of her eyes.  
"Well, that's a strange thing to be happy about."  
He shrugged, "I'm a strange person."  
"So if taking lives makes you happy then what makes you unhappy? What makes you sad?" Harleen asked, trying to sound as casual as possible and make sure her voice didn't shake under her rapid heartbeat. She was starting to question taking this case if after only a few minutes of discussion she was ready to jump out of her skin. Maybe this field wasn't for her after all. Maybe she should have studied to be a teacher like her friends, or take her mother's advice and be a lawyer. Both seemed much safer than this. Much safer than a tiny wooden desk and some handcuffs the Joker was known to easily escape from separating them.  
"I don't get sad and there in lies the problem, Doc. I don't get unhappy because I always get my way. And I don't get sad because I just don't care. You can't fix that." He said, matter of factly.  
"We all get sad, whether you chose to acknowledge it or not. We all cry. We all get frustrated."  
"Boys don't cry." He smiled again.  
"Boys, men...serial killers. All cry sometimes."  
"Do you want to know how I got these scars?" He asked the familier question.  
"I highly doubt you'll tell me the truth. You see, we have at least a dozen different versions from you about that. A drunken father, an attempt to please a mutilated wife...even Batman." She said.  
"Which do you believe?"  
"None. They're what motivate you which make it extremely personal. Not something you're going to tell just anyone."  
"Very good. Very very good. What's your name?"  
Instinct told Harleen to keep things on a professional level but she wondered if being more open would allow him to let his quard down a bit. Open up.  
"Harleen." She said.  
"Harleeeeeennnn." His voice echoed in a purr that sent chills up her spine. "Can I call you Harley?"  
"You can call me Dr. Quinzel."  
"Harley Quinn." He stated.  
She smiled for the first time. "Dr. Quinzel will do."  
"But you're too young...and pretty for that name."  
Harleen felt herself blush and was confused at the conflicting emotions. First she was scared out of her mind and now a simple compliment was making her shy. How odd.  
"I suppose whatever you feel comfortable calling me. It couldn't hurt."  
The session ended twenty minutes from that point. It wasn't a meeting that brought great discoveries or even really helped. Again, it was only set up to be an introduction and Harleen felt like they had at least broken the ice. That was important. Their conversation flowed freely like two friends who were merely having lunch together, not a convict and a psychologist talking in a mental ward. Harleen found him to be witty and charismatic. Funny at times with a thin layer of hostility that one could almost forget when in his presence. She had to remind herself numerous times just who she was dealing with.  
Once he was taken back to his room, Harleen cleaned up her desk and glanced at the clock. It was time to leave for the day and she felt emotionally drained. She was thankful to lock herself inside her little studio apartment and relax with a movie. Something to take her mind off of the patient that she couldn't stop thinking about. His face, his mannerisms, his voice. Everything. But the question was why she thought about it? Was she just so engrossed in her work with him and determined to help or was it something else altogether?  
When her boyfriend of two years called she let the machine pick up. For the first time in their entire relationship she just didn't feel like talking to him.


	2. Chapter 2

It was three days until Harleen was set up to see the Joker again and her stomach flip flopped that morning. She made herself a cup of coffee and drank only that, unable to eat. She was worried about their meeting since this would be the first day of real work with him. Real attempts at figuring him out and getting him the right treatment. If she failed then it was possible noone there could help and he might be transferred to a larger facility two states away. A place with a bigger staff, more doctors and tighter security for sure.  
She wore a fitted light pink button down top and clingy grey skirt that came to just above her knees. High heeled open toe shoes and her hair straitened and down to frame her heart shaped face. She didn't put on too much makeup and slipped on her glasses. Although she had contact lenses Harleen felt glasses made her appear more professional, silly as it was. She preferred to wear them. Maybe being the youngest on the team of doctors made her a little insecure. Either way it did no harm except boost her ego.  
On the drive over she listened to the morning news. Batman was the topic of choice as he seemed to always be these days. Harleen could never understand how someone dressed as a bat, running around beating people senseless, wasn't in Arkham too. It was mind boggling. And who could really tell what side he was playing for. The good or bad? Was he a brave citizen dedicated to keeping crime off the streets or a lunatic bent on destruction? He seemed to teeter along those lines. Harleen wasn't one of his many supporters and thought the villians should be left to those employed to handle them. The police, the law. Noone should take the law into their own hands like that, dressed in a bat costume or not.  
She pulled in to her assigned spot and turned off the engine. Harleen stepped out and made her way past security and up to her office on the second floor. She said hello to the fellow doctors that passed and declined a dinner invitation from one of the male colleagues. She walked into her office and opened the blinds. It was a beautiful day out and the Joker would be in first thing that morning. She didn't have much time to prepare ,she noticed, looking up at the clock above the couch. Quickly, she pulled out his files from the corner cabinet and plopped into her chair, skimming through notes made during their previous conversation.  
The usual knock came and the door opened without an answer, just like last time. The same burley guards hustled the Joker in and set him on the couch. One of them nodded at her before following the other out.  
"Good morning." He said, before she had a chance to.  
"Good morning to you, too." She replied, pleasantly.  
"You look beautiful today." His eyes wandered openly over her body.  
She smiled but said nothing. The comment had a definite effect on her but she decided it was on of his ways of distracting the situation. The Joker was good at getting into people's minds and manipulating them. Harleen did not want to play that game. She silently scolded her body for responding to such a simple comment.  
"We do have a lot of work to get done today. Our last session was devoted entirely to getting to know one another and now comes the real deal."  
She flipped through some paperwork before finding a short personality survey she needed him to fill out. It was thirty questions long and probably something he'd done before but she needed it for her own files. And to see if anything had changed recently due to time or the switch in counselars. She handed it over to him but he made no move to take it.  
"Harley, I'd love to do that but these cuffs are too tight. Impairs my ability to write, you know, and I pride myself on good penmanship." He smiled.  
"There's nothing I can do about that, and all you have to do is fill in the bubbles. Penmanship isn't necessary." She replied, still holding out the paper.  
He looked at her with an unreadable expression. She couldn't tell if he was fooling around or really asking her to take off the cuffs- which, of course, she had no way to do. Or did she? It was a somewhat unusual thing for the patient to be cuffed, this was a precaution only because of how violent he'd been with the staff before. But he'd been completely docile with her. Maybe the others provoked him? Again, Harleen scolded herself on that type of thinking. Why was she making excuses for him?  
He finally got up and took the papers and pencil. As he sat down to fill it out she made herself look busy by looking through her next patient's notes. Harleen only had five patients to care for at the moment and none of them were as complex as the Joker. They were easy shizo's or manic depressives, well under control by their medications. As she peered at the notebook her mind wandered. She shifted her eyes slightly to watch the Joker without him noticing. He seemed to be concentrating intently on the questions.  
"You're watching me." He mumbled almost to himself then looked up at her.  
Harleen hoped she wasn't blushing.  
"It's ok, I like watching you, too." He winked, before she could defend herself and went back to the survey.  
When he finished, he walked back over to her desk and placed the test face down in front of her. Something was written on the back. Harleen picked it up and pushed her glasses further up her nose to read it.  
"How can I make you smile?" She read aloud, confused.  
"You're too serious. This office is too stuffy, these cuffs...," he pulled at them again, somehwat agressively, "are too damn tight." Then he softened his tone. "And I just want to see you smile. Is that wrong?"  
"Well...no." She didn't know where he was going with this and didn't know quite how to answer him.  
"If I'm a good boy allllll session, do you think you could ask them to remove these next time?"  
"Why do you want them off so bad? They really don't hinder you so much as they protect me."  
"Protect you from what?" He tilted his head, "From me walking over there and choking you to death or...having my way with you." He smiled again.  
"Both." She said, simply.  
"Which one would be worse?"  
"You seem to have this relationship confused. I ask the questions, not you."  
"Orange."  
"What?" Harleen asked.  
"Word association. Orange." He repeated.  
"I'm not doing-"  
"Orange." He said again, cutting her off.  
"Fruit." She replied, frustrated.  
"Dog."  
"Cat." She said, fully intending to stop after that one.  
"Felacio."  
This time she blushed furiously and couldn't hide it.  
"Ok, that's enough!" She said, and angrily threw his survey into her desk drawer, slamming it shut. He held up both hands to show he was backing down but kept a broad smile on his face.  
She pulled out an aggression and anger comparisson survey for him to do next and took a look at the clock. It wasn't near time to leave and she needed to compose herself to get through the last half hour with him. Harleen had to learn not to allow him to antagonize her and she understood that the more reaction she gave, the more he'd push.  
Surprisingly, the last portion of the day went off easily. The Joker's comments were kept to a minimum and Harleen relaxed a bit. When it was time for him to go she even felt a little sad. Which really shocked her.  
After a month of having him as a subject she was happy with the progress he seemed to be making. The guards mentioned he was quiet during the day and kept to himself, a change from his usual routine. He was talkative and cheerful through almost every meeting with her. The only trouble she had was figuring out his past, since every story was different or obviously a lie. How his scars came to be and who he really was remained a mystery.  
It was a Monday evening when she walked to her office to find the guards outside her door and the Joker already waiting for her. She was late and that wasn't like her.  
"I was starting to worry about you." He said as she placed her purse under her desk and took her seat.  
The idea that the Joker would worry about anyone almost made her laugh.  
"Traffic." She lied.  
"In the building?" He asked "I saw you here earlier. You didn't leave."  
"You don't know that." She replied.  
"Yes, I do."  
It was the tone he said it in that made her nervous. She ignored the flutter in her gut and sighed.  
"I told you last time to think of something you'd like to concentrate on for one session. Something that's bothering you or something you'd like to work on changing about yourself."  
He nodded.  
"Have you thought of anything?" She asked.  
"I want you to ask them to take off these cuffs. I happen to know that if you request it, they will do it." He said.  
She leaned back in her chair. She'd recently found that out as well, but it didn't make her feel comfortable in doing it. Not yet, maybe never. As much of a sick crush she had on him (and she'd finally admitted that to herself), she would not allow that to impair her good sense. Harleen was too young to end up dead of a stupid decision.  
"No."  
"You don't trust me?"  
"They are there for a good reason-"  
"You trust me."  
"I don't." She said, forcefully, "You're a violent person with a gory past. You've killed people here."  
"You know I wouldn't hurt you. Maybe you don't trust yourself."  
She blinked but didn't respond.  
"You don't trust yourself because..." He paused, "if my hands are free they can go wherever you want them to." He smiled.  
"I don't want your hands near me."  
"So you don't want me to slip my hand under that tight little skirt and slide it between your legs until-"  
Before he finished she pressed the panic button under her desk, never taking her eyes away from him. There was a satisfied smirk plastered on his face as he was dragged out.


	3. Chapter 3

Harleen was nervous while sitting at her office desk that afternoon, waiting for the Joker to come and start their session. He would be escorted in free- without cuffs to restrain him. Free from the safety she'd come to rely on each week, but there was no way she could validate making him wear them anymore. So far he'd been on good behavior and the only threatening remarks he made were sexual and fairly innocent. She couldn't fight it forever.  
He was brought in in the usual manor and she noticed the grin on his face immediately.  
"Are you pleased?" She asked as he sat down.  
He ran a hand through his hair and his tongue darted out at the scars before he answered.  
"Oh, very. Very pleased my dear Harley. Nowww..." He purred "How can I please you?" His smile widened.  
"If you so much as stand up from that couch I will call security and assign you a different therapist instantly."  
"Instantly?" He chided her.  
She nodded, her eyes stern. He seemed to constantly need to be told who was in control and it was a difficult thing to keep on top of. The Joker was so easy to get lost around...  
"In any case, it makes scratching the burn marks from electro shock therapy much easier." He scratched at his scalp.  
"Noone administers that kind of treatment anymore." Harleen smiled.  
He leaned forward, feigning confusion.  
"Maybe not to you...or anybody else. But definitely to me. Daily."  
"I wish that were the case. It would explain a lot. My job would be much easier." She joked.  
"But it is easy. I'm an open book."  
Harleen laughed, "Hardly."  
"I've never hidden anything and I don't lie." He said, and sounded serious for the first time. "You don't ask the right questions. You're too busy being Dr. Harleen Quinzel Pediatrician Baptist Junior." He mocked and waved his left hand in the air. "Harley Quinn knows the answers before asking."  
She raised an eyebrow. "That doesn't make sense."  
The Joker sat back and licked his lips and Harleen averted her eyes. Sometimes it felt like drowning in a pool when talking to him. Some things clicked and were understandable but most things just weren't clear. In the midst of trying to help him regain his sanity, Harleen often felt like she was losing her own. She was already falling down an incredibly steep cliff with this crush thing. And she knew there would be noone to save her at the bottom. It was just a fall and painful ending. That's the only way it could be.  
They went over his day, his feelings- or what she could get out of him anyway. He complained about the staff and she defended them as always, explained that what they did was for everyone's own good. It was a light session and he seemed to manage well without the cuffs. She even began to feel childish having needed them on for so long.  
"So, how's Chad?" the Joker asked, out of the blue.  
A cold chill ran through Harleen's entire body at the mention of her boyfriend's name. There was no way the Joker could know about him. No way at all. Of course she never mentioned her private life. And only one other person knew about him in the office and she was never near the locked down section of the facility.  
"He's fine." Harleen responded noncomittaly. Until she knew what he was hinting at she refused to show fear.  
"I cried for weeks when I found out you were cheating on me. Or was it hours? Minutes? Time is so unimportant these days." He giggled.  
Harleen pursed her lips. She would NOT give him what he wanted. She was a professional. Psychologist dealt with these scenarios all the time. "We're not in a relationship. I am your therapist. You are a patient. It goes no further than that."  
"Then why," he leaned forward, "do you keep fantasizing about me fucking you?"  
His strong words and blunt question left her speechless. This conversation was the last thing she expected and she didn't feel prepared to handle it. She was also very unprepared to handle the equally strong reaction from her body. A body that was betraying her moral code as a therapist solely there to help someone. This 'someone' was a murderer to boot! She couldn't possibly feel anything for him.  
Harleen squirmed in her seat.  
"First, that's entirely inappropriate. And so untrue."  
He stood up slowly and walked around the desk. She gripped the edge of her seat and felt herself panic. It felt as though forty extra pounds of weight were dropped on her lap and her mind went fuzzy. She should have pressed the panic button, should have even brought pepper spray or something to defend herself. But Harleen was vulnerable now and it was too late. The panic glued her to her seat and her eyes grew wide.  
Once he reached her chair he placed both hands on the armrests and lowered his face to hers. Harleen turned away and squinted her eyes shut expecting the worst. A punch, a blade to the mouth in typical Joker fashion. She'd never been in a fight or even a major confrontation in her entire life so this made her absolute insides quiver.  
He grabbed her chin with his right hand and forced her face towards his.  
"Look at me."  
So she did. She slowly opened her eyes and stared into the ones that had enchanted her secretly for what felt like forever. A strong fear was now mixed with an even stronger urge she didn't want to recognize.  
"All I want to do is make you smile."  
Her heart almost stopped as his hand left her face and trailed down her shirt to her midsection and then to her knees. His fingertips grazed up her inner thighs and she felt her legs open slightly without thinking. Her body seemed to have a mind of it's own and it was almost embarrassing.  
"No." She heard it escape her mouth at some point.  
"Then stop me." The Joker paused for only a moment and continued on. His hand explored under her skirt until finally touching her panties, which were wet already.  
"I think you meant 'yes'." He smiled, feeling how aroused she was. His fingers explored further until finally reaching under her panties and inside her. Harleen gasped and arched her back as he inserted his middle finger slowly.  
"Shh, shh, shh." She heard him whisper as he moved the one finger rhythmically. His mouth was maddeningly close to her ear and every exhale was pure torture. He carefully inserted anther finger and she felt herself grind her hips in time to his movement. He wasn't kissing her, wasnt touching her in any other place, only breathing on her. Harleen's eyes were shut again and when she felt she could take no more, his thumb found her clitoris.  
Her body shook with an orgasm so strong it made her legs weak. She bit her bottom lip to avoid screaming. And when it was over he was seated back on the couch, staring at her but not saying it word. She almost wondered if she imagined the whole thing.  
"I think the sessions over." He said as a knock came at the door and two guards walked in to return the patient.  
"Cause you any trouble, Doc?" One guard asked, referring to the lack of cuffs.  
Her mind shouted 'Yes! Yes! Take him away, change his doctor. I'm done.' But her heart said...  
"No, not a bit."


	4. Chapter 4

Doctors flew around Arkham looking as though they were the ones that needed to be committed. Police cars littered the parking lot in haphazard clusters and news reporters were already starting to line up outside the door. Dr. Arkham was fending them off with three guards and one of the more intimidating officers. Harleen stood still in the center of the lobby and watched a secretary talk animatedly to someone on the phone, verging hysterics.  
"Are they letting you leave?" Annabelle, a co-worker of Harleen's asked her.  
She turned to face the woman who was about ten years her senior with short red hair and a mouth full of much too dark brown lipstick. She was someone Harleen had lunch with in the cafeteria almost every day and was quite fond of her. Now the two women were standing side by side, baffled by the chaos going on around them.  
"They didn't question me long. Said I need to go somewhere safe but suggested not to go home. As though the Joker would even bother finding me there. They want me to leave here now, though."  
"He doesn't know where you live, right?" Annabelle asked.  
"No. How could he?"  
"Easily." She replied.  
Harleen shook her head. "Like I told everyone else, he's not interested in finding me. He's out on a demented trip somewhere, robbing, killing and stealing. Probably involved with the mob again. Batman will find him in a few days, like always, and he'll be back in my office irritating me- like always- by next Monday."  
"He's never stayed with a therapist as long as you, Harleen. The police...everyone...think that's significant." The woman placed a concerned had on her shoulder, "We're all worried. Why don't you go to your boyfriend's house for a while?"  
Harleen shrugged and turned away. She didn't have a boyfriend anymore. The night of the 'incident' made her so guilty she called Chad strait away and ended things. She felt horrible for basically cheating and was also scared for his life. It was the best thing to do and had to ignore how heart broken he was. But, again, what other choice was there?  
"I'm going home. It'll be fine. All this is silly." Harleen said and gave Annabelle a quick hug before weaving through the maze of onlookers and to her car.  
It was a short drive from the institution to her apartment and that was one of the things that appealed for Harley when taking the job. Convenience. Now she was certainly grateful for it. Her mind was so jumbled with everything that happened within the past twenty four hours and it made it difficult to concentrate on the road.  
Once arriving at her complex Harley shut off the engine and took a breath. If things didn't calm down soon she was sure she'd have a heart attack. It was hard to believe so much drama had happened since taking up this case and she was now positive she'd made a dire mistake. Harleen glanced into the back seat for the second time since getting into the car but the Joker wasn't there. The paranoia was unending.  
She opened the driver's side door and stepped out, straitening her dress. She'd chosen the most demure outfit available from her closet that morning, still feeling dirty. It didn't hide or change anything, that much was true, but it helped her feel less obvious.  
Harleen shut the door and looked around at the vehicles in the lot. There weren't many with it being a work day and the ones she saw didn't appear dangerous or have a big sign reading 'The Joker's Escape Car'. Deeming it safe to go, she walked up to the complex and through the swinging glass doors. She said hello to the doorman and took comfort knowing he was always there.  
She made her way to the elevator at the end of the marble hallway and listened to the click of her shoes. It was so quiet and she was rarely home during the week, the building seemed almost spooky.  
Once inside the elevator, Harleen pressed the number four and watched the dial above her head light up with each ascent. Her mind wanted to run away with every thought or theory it had but she was strict. No guessing where he could be, no wondering if he was still alive and no, no, no...assuming he was inside her apartment, waiting. That was the most poisonous of all her thoughts, leaving room to remember the day before. Feeling torn between the wrong and right of life when all Harleen wanted to do was have a decent career.  
The double doors slid open when a bell chimed at her level. She stepped out and walked slowly to her door as though walking to a death sentence. Harleen scolded herself for the seventh time that week for being overly dramatic. But still, she took a look up and down the hallway before placing her key into the lock. What did she expect to see? His troupe of masked men running around, swinging guns in the air. That was dumb.  
Harleen closed the door behind her quickly and locked all three locks. She stopped herself from drawing the blinds and shutting the curtains to hide. Tossing her purse onto the overstuffed sectional, she perched on the arm. She debated turning on the news for a long moment before finally deciding against it. No need to fuel more fear. Someone would call her once he was captured and everyone could go back to normal life. Maybe when he was back in Arkham she would remove herself from his case and reconsile with Chad. She missed him and loved him and, although he didn't provide the same excitement as flirting with a lunactic, he was real. He was true and he loved her back.  
She got up and wandered into the kitchen to eat what was left of the two week old Rocky Road icecream left in the freezer, when she heard a sound.  
"Oh, c'mon." Harleen mumbled to herself.  
It sounded like something falling. Or someone tapping loudly. She couldn't tell. Harleen reminded herself that there were neighbors in her unit and the walls were thin. Be logical.  
She forced herself to open the freezer when she heard it again.  
"Ok. If there's a crazy person here about to kill me, come out now. Stop fucking around!" She yelled out, and waited.  
Nothing.  
She closed the freezer door and walked into the bathroom, turning on the light.  
Noone.  
She slammed that door in frustration with herself, and walked into her bedroom. The bed was still made with the pretty vintage sheets she'd just bought at a flee market. Pictures still hung on the wall and everything was in place. Nothing was moved or tampered with. And she was about to laugh at herself when the sound came again, this time right behind her.  
Harleen turned so fast it almost made her dizzy. Her blond hair wipped in her face and she saw him.  
He was in clothes she recognized from news reports. The suit, the gloves, the vest, the shoes. She remembered it all.  
"You're supposed to be in Arkham." She pointed at him, it was the first thing that came out of her mouth and it sounded incredibly stupid. As though she were about to punish a child for skipping school. But it was better than screaming.  
"I wanted to talk to you and I couldn't wait for our next session." He said.  
"I'm calling the police." Harleen made a step for the living room but he pushed her back.  
"No, I'M calling the police!" He said and grabbed the phone before she could get to it. He clicked it on and put it to his ear, "Or, maybe I'll just call Chad instead. I feel like we should clear the air."  
She grabbed the phone and clicked it off "I already did that, not that it matters."  
"So you told him you had sexual intercourse with a patient?" He smiled.  
"No because that would be false." Harleen's heart raced, "It was nothing like that." She shouldn't be taking part in this conversation. She should just be dialing 911. "You're manipulative and you seduced me. I couldn't think strait." Harleen almost pleaded.  
"I seduced you?!" The Joker placed a hand over his heart as if stunned, "How was I to know that one of these little sit downs would turn into you playing doctor with me? I mean, Harley..." He stepped towards her, "I'm only a man..." He growled, "and it's pretty hard to pay attention with these little outfits..." He said and placed a hand on her hip.  
She shoved him back.  
"Don't touch me!" Harleen ran to the door now and rushed to unlock it, but before she even had the top one undone, he grabbed her hair and pushed her cheek against the door frame. His other hand pinned her right arm down, behind her back.  
"I never get to finish a sentence before someone's trying to run away." He said. "Maybe that's why I'm so misunderstood."  
He let go of her hair and brought her left hand up with the right one. He grabbed her wrists and leaned against her body. She felt him search for something and fought back tears when she saw the blade.  
"Please don't kill me, please, please." Harleen whispered.  
"Well, since you said please. "The Joker laughed. "Harley, I don't want to kill you and you're smart enough to see that by now." He pressed the blade into her neck but not hard enough to break skin.  
"What do you want?" Harleen managed between a sob.  
"For starters I need you to stop panicking..."


	5. Chapter 5

Harleen was a lot of things. Sometimes timid, often naive and much too trusting. But she was also a fighter. She stomped on the Joker's foot with her heel and pulled her arm out of his grip as soon as the knife moved an inch from her throat. It wasn't enough to get free but certainly enough to startle him. Harleen turned around and tried to push him out of the way so she could run but he was immovable. He calmly placed a hand on her forehead and shoved her backwards instead. The back of her head slammed into the unforgiving door and her knees buckled. She reached out for the doorknob to have something to hold onto even if that didn't really help. If nothing else, it steadied her enough to resist dropping onto the floor in a heap.  
Anything to make her feel less like a mouse to the snake, just a helpless victim.  
The room spun and her hearing went dead for a split second but returned quickly. She tried to lift herself up into a standing position again but her mind was too fuzzy. Once up, she wouldn't be able to keep herself there. Harleen slouched into her knees and focused on the tile beneath her feet. A low ringing vibrated through her ears and she blinked over and over to make it stop.  
A hand reached under her chin then and tilted her face up.  
"I don't want to hurt you. Not at all." The Joker said, looking into her eyes.  
She thought she saw true compassion there but it didn't make sense. He couldn't be violent with her and immediately switch gears. None of this made sense.  
Then, without warning, he lowered his mouth to hers and kissed her. He kissed her bottom lip first and then ran his tongue along her mouth until she parted her lips for him. His kiss was gentle and truley sweet as his tongue found hers. It gradually became hungry and he leaned into her, placing a hand along her jaw line.  
Everything was so complicated. A part of Harleen cried out to stop before it was too late. Leave now while his guard is down. Run. Don't be foolish again. But a much larger part was making her kneel and get closer to him. That part of herself enjoyed the way his hands traveled exploratively over her body. That part was giddy when he began to unbutton her blouse and pull it off her shoulders. She never resisted when he pulled her skirt down past her hips and she loved the approving grunt that came from him as he started to unbuckled his pants.  
She looked down at his full arousal and knew everything would change from that moment on. Harleen was about to indulge in a small sin and there could be no going back to her mousy days as Arkhams newest councilor. He took her hand and placed it on himself before anymore protests came to her mind. She kissed his neck heatedly as he moved his hips to the rythym of her hand. It wasn't long before he pushed her down onto the bare floor and moved her panties to the side.  
When he entered her it was far from the way she had secretly imagined. He was aggressive and forceful, not wasting time with care as he thrust deeply. He either didn't hear her cry or ignored it and began to move in and out of her. She arched her back and moved her hips with his. Harleen's legs were wrapped around his waist and she bit her lip to stifle another cry and he groped her breast. He seemed to tear at her and make love to her at the same time, confusing every emotion Harleen would ever feel.  
He licked at her nipples until they were hard and bit them to see her moan. And when she did, he slowed his movements and reached down to rub her clitoris, never taking himself out of her.  
His orgasm came just as hard as the entire act had. He pulled her hair back and sucked on her neck, near her collar bone, until it hurt. She felt him spasm and came herself as his growl rang in her ear. Primal and erotic. He bit her earlobe roughly before finally letting go of her hair and finding her lips again. This was the only time he was actually tender. He kissed her lightly and let their tongues touch for eternity before breaking it and slowly pulling out of her.  
They dressed in silence as Harleen struggled for something to say. Something to say to break the uneasiness that was creeping back into the apartment. "I can't stay here." Was all he offered as he watched her fix the sleeves of her top.  
Harleen wasn't surprised. Of course he couldn't stay and for various reasons. The main one being the entire city of Gotham on the lookout for him. The longer the Joker stayed in one place the more likely it was that someone would find him. And, eventually, a friend or even Chad would come by to check on her.  
He made his way to the door to let himself out and Harleen summoned all the self control she had not to demand he stay. In the threshold he paused and turned, as if reading her thoughts.  
"Well? Are you coming?"  
"No." She shook her head, stunned he'd asked.  
The Joker sighed as if annoyed and walked back inside, grabbed her wrist and pulled her out with him. He didn't seem to hear any of her protests.


	6. Chapter 6

The room was infested with roaches that scurried away quickly when the lights turned on. It smelled like stale pizza and beer and Harley placed her hand over her nose to control gag reflex. Joker moved past her as though she were invisible and threw two large duffle bags onto a lone, twin sized mattress in the corner. Dust lingered as a cloud in the aftermath.  
"Where are we?" She asked as he shoved past her again, this time carrying a garbage bag halfway full with unmarked bills.  
He stopped mid-step and gave her a strange look.  
"Why, the Hilton, of course. Can't you tell?" His tone was of irritation and Harley wisely decided to let him alone.  
She walked slowly to the corner where the bed was and gingerly sat on its edge, as though any more movement would contaminate her. The Joker and three of his 'henchmen' helped unload a few more things from the dark gray van that had brought them there. One man with a missing eye looked her over approvingly, and smiled. His teeth were almost totally rotted out and what was left were a disgusting mixture of black and brown. Harley shivered and scooted back further onto the bed. The Joker tossed a red backpack into the closet, turned, and punched the man in the stomach.  
"Thanks for your help, Matt." He placed a hand on the man's back and leaned down to peer into his face. He was doubled over and moaning in pain.  
"Unfortunately," The Joker continued, "this is the last time I'll be needing your services."  
Harley sat petrified as she watched the scene. The Joker glanced at her and squinted, as if trying to make a decision, then nodded to a man standing by the door. He immediately rushed forward and dragged Matt outside with Joker following. The door slammed behind them.  
She held her breath aware of what was going on. They were going to kill him and the idea of hearing a gunshot or a scream made her want to break down right there. She couldn't handle that. For god's sake she couldn't handle this! Agreeing to run away with the Joker was impulsive and Harley didn't have time to take into account everything she'd experience. But she couldn't do anything but sit there and stare at the wall. Helping unpack wasn't an option considering one of the bags held explosives, another held money that he'd already ordered her not to touch and another held various weapons she wasn't ready to look at yet.  
Harley folded her hands on her lap and pursed her lips. There was no clock in the room so she couldn't see how long he was taking. How long did it take to kill someone? How was it happening? Would he come back to the room when it was finished? Would he abandon her there with those thugs? Questions buzzed around her thoughts, threatening to suffocate her until the Joker finally came back in.  
He started sifting through the contents of one of the duffel bags to her left.  
"This is dynamite, this is gun powder." He said, pointing inside the bag, noticing her curious stare. He then walked to the garbage bag in the middle of the floor.  
"This...this is mine." He said, simply.  
He was referring to the bag of money she'd already been told not to 'even look at'.  
"I don't get to see any of it?" Harley ventured cautiously.  
He looked at her for a moment and smiled.  
"You, Harleykins, get to see whatever I chose to buy for you." He sauntered over and fingered the collar of her blouse. "You wear whatever I chose to get you." He pulled at the first button and popped it off with his index finger, immediately popping off the second one as well, exposing her cleavage. "Or...don't."  
She returned his smile despite herself and leaned over for a kiss but was stopped in her tracks when he grabbed her chin."And I mean that."  
The night went on without occurrence. She took a shower in a tiny, closet-sized bathroom and changed into one of his undershirts. Although he was slim it still was oversized for her and comfy. Harley used her work blouse to dry her hair until it was damp and combed through it with her fingers. Her reflection in a broken mirror appeared decent so she left and found her Joker lying on the bed. He was watching a tiny black and white television one of the men had given them, legs crossed at the ankles and a hand rested on his chest. He was still mercilessly attractive to her, even while just relaxing but Harley couldn't pinpoint what exactly drew her to him. It was almost like a moth to a flame.  
"Hey." She said, shyly, crawling into bed next to him.  
He turned his head and let out a noise she could only take as appreciative as he lifted up an edge of the shirt and peeked underneath.  
"No panties." He said.  
"You didn't give me a chance to get my stuff."  
"I did that on purpose." He replied, grabbing her hips and shifting her on top of him until she was straddling his waste. He looked up at her and said. "Becauuusseeee, everything on your body will be something I own. Technically. The way I own you."  
"You don't own me." She insisted, half serious.  
He gripped her thighs and moved her hips seductively over his growing erection.  
"Sure do, pumpkin." Harley let out a soft moan. "And I think you like it."  
Harley was done talking and let her head fall back in pleasure and he reached under her shirt with both hands to play with her nipples. The Joker pulled his pants down while she was still on top of him and guided his cock into her. It was a little less rough this time around since she was in a controlled position. She lowered herself onto him and moved her hips in small circles, determined to tease him. He tolerated that for only second before taking control back and bouncing her up and down. Harley didn't fight it and leaned forward with both palms on his chest. Her hair dangled in his face and he grabbed a chunk of it.  
"All...mine." He murmured in something of a growl and let go. Harley leaned up again and didn't stop, even though she recognized how possessive he was becoming in such a short time.  
In minutes she was trembling with an orgasm that shook her to the core. He continued to bounce her until his own hips were lifting up to come as deeply inside her as he could get. And when they were done she rolled over onto her back as he went into the bathroom. Before getting a chance to clean herself up, Harley fell asleep there, dreaming of sweet bliss.  
It felt like she had only shut her eyes when she opened them again to see the Joker clapping in her face.  
"Up, up, up!" He shouted and grabbed her arm to pull her upright.  
"What's wrong?" She asked, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes.  
"Don't be stupid." He was already dressed and showered. The Joker stood near the door and tapped his foot impatiently.  
"Get dressed." He ordered.  
"I don't have any-"  
"Closet." Was all he said.  
Harley got up and tried to go to the bathroom but he told her there was no time and made sure she put on the high cut black skirt and red dressy top he provided. There were also a pair of heels that matched and were the right size.  
"When did you get this?" She asked him as they left the room.  
He slapped her on the ass in response and opened the backseat door of a van for her. A different one then last night. Once in, he climbed into the seat next to her.  
"Go." Was all he said, and the driver took off.


	7. Chapter 7

Harley's hair fluttered around her face in a breeze. The window was cracked only an inch so the tinted glass still hid the passengers in the backseat. The Joker reclined next to her, legs spread wide and his hand rested on one knee while the other busied itself with a cell phone. He was flipping through it and possibly reading text messages. She didn't dare try and view the screen as his testy attitude scared her. Harley watched him from the corner of her eye in safety and admired his apperance. Who would have guessed a maniac in clown makeup could be so appealing?  
And what did it say about her that she found him so sexy?  
But there were a million things on her mind that morning other than her libido. Harley wondered if anyone knew she was missing yet, wondered if Chad had tried calling. Maybe she could check her messages at their next stop? She shook her head and pulled on her lip in concentration. No, he'd never allow that.  
Allow? Since when did someone allow her to do anything? She was twenty five years old. A woman, not a child and certainly not a hostage.  
She could leave anytime she wanted. Just open the door at their next stop, wave 'see ya' and walk to the nearest payphone. It might just be that simple. He wouldn't kill her in broad daylight.  
He wouldn't kill her at all. Right?  
Suddenly, the Joker flipped his phone closed and the sound made her jump. It had been so quiet and Harley's nerves were frayed entirely.  
"You look nervous."  
"Nope." She replied, focusing on the scenery that passed by. It seemed important not to show fear. Her mother told her once that dogs could smell it. They attacked at even the feigntest sign of it.  
"Ocean." He said, out of nowhere.  
Harley looked over at him, not understanding.  
"What?"  
"Ocean." He repeated and turned his head towards hers.  
"I don't-"  
"Word association, Harley, you're still my therapist. Don't think you can slack off now just because you're fucking the patient. A job is a job." He said with a serious expression.  
She blinked, had no retort for him and answered.  
"Fish."  
"Piano."  
"Music."  
"Diamond."  
"Bracelet." She wondered how long this game would go on for.  
With that, he reached into the inner pocket of his jacket and tossed a white felt box into her lap. She opened it cautiously and ran her finger along the prettiest platinum set diamond tennis bracelet she'd ever seen.  
"Oh my..." Harley whispered.  
The car stopped short then and the Joker opened his door to get out without another word. She closed the box and held onto it while the driver got out as well and walked with him to her side of the car. They talked for a moment before discreetly exchanging something between them. Harley couldn't see what it was and was so preoccupied with her new gift, didn't bother trying to get a closer look. She rubbed her thumb along the the top of the box and smiled. She even relaxed a bit. The Joker had gone out of his way and done something nice for her. The fact that it was probably stolen didn't matter. It was the thought and she was in those thoughts of his.  
It made her feel special.What Harley didn't see in herself was how easily distracted and tempted she was. It was true that she had graduated at the top of her class with a good amount of knowledge of the human psyche but she was unable to see the problems in her own mind. A smart girl didn't always lead to bright personal choices. There she was, in the biggest mess any person could get caught up in and all she could think about was the sparkly new trinket in her hand.  
Harley's door was opened for her. She got out and walked over to the Joker who was busy with his phone again. As she looked around her eyes took in the run down factory glaring before them. It was dirty and ancient, a sore sight. A jagged barbed wire fence surrounded the building for what seemed like miles and she had to strain her neck to see the very top of it. Apparently, this was where they were staying and Harley hoped the inside wasn't as offensive as the out.  
The driver walked past them and took out a pair of keys from his back pants pocket. He walked to a gate connected to the barbed wire fencing, and clanged it open. The lock fell heavily to the ground and he bent to pick it up.  
Joker grabbed Harley's hand and pulled her after him, through the entrance and down a bumpy walkway to the rusty main door. His sidekick pushed it open and it relented with a loud squeal.  
"Home sweet home." The Joker said, and waved his hand grandly while stepping inside. Harley followed and tried to take it all in with an open mind. There were dozens of medium sized rooms that were bare and unfurnished. Random card board boxes could be found littering the floor with blank sheets of paper pilled in corners. It seemed that it might have been a warehouse before but was long retired. She followed him through a corridor and up a narrow metal staircase. They reached another set of doors and he opened the one closest to them.  
Inside was a queen sized canopy bed complete with a lace overhang. Matching lacey curtains adorned the only viewless window in the room and a solid oak dresser with an oval mirror stood to the beds' side. Harley walked in and opened a closet door revealing a full walk in space. She closed the door and turned around. The Joker was watching her with a satisfied expression.  
"We can still exchange it all for the bug filled mattress down town if you want. But I thought you'd prefer this instead."  
"It's really nice." Harley said and walked over to him, reaching for his hand.  
She could imagine them living there happily, hidden from the world and taking shelter in each other. Harley was still idealistic and the nature of their new reality hadn't quite hit her yet. But it soon would. Inevitably.


	8. Chapter 8

The Joker rarely brought his work home and if he did it was for specific reasons never disclosed to Harley. On a rainy Friday night, a month after moving into the abandoned warehouse, she was sitting on the bed and watching Tv. She sat cross legged and flipped lazily through the channels hoping to catch Joker's face on the news. It always gave her a little thrill and she missed him so much when he was gone.  
Lately he'd been lavishing her with gifts. The massive closet in their room was already filled with various outfits he brought home for her. Designer jeans, expensive tops, cocktail dresses that looked like pieces of art and silk teddies in every color. He got her an antique silver paddle brush for her hair and tiny ceramic figurines she'd begun to collect. He came home with presents at least four times a week and watched her hungrily as she opened the boxes and bags to reveal her surprise.  
They were stolen. All of them, and they both knew it but that never took away from the appeal. If anything, it made it more exciting for Harley, who was beginning to enjoy her role as a criminal's girl. It was a guilty pleasure.  
He waited impatiently as she stuidied each new object, licking his lips subconsiously. Eyeing her body. And she couldn't keep him waiting long, eager to show her appreciation.  
This night, though, he was later than usual getting home. Her eyes started to droop and she looked at the clock. It was almost one in the morning. It made her nervous wondering if he was arrested or dead somewhere but those were the breaks. This was the life she lived now and had to deal with those fears.  
She shut off the Tv and and fell back onto the over stuffed, pillow top mattress. She felt spoiled and special and good.  
The silence around her was soon replaced with voices that seemed to come from downstairs. Harley could barely hear them and got out of bed to press her ear to the door. Sure there was something going on, she left the bedroom and crept down the staircase. She stopped on the second to last step when she heard what sounded like crying...no, whimpering. Begging?  
Her pulse quickened as she stepped down and peered around the corner, careful to keep unseen. All of the lights were turned on throughout the building, the overhead neon blocks buzzed loudly. A circle of four men surrounded one other man who was on his knees, tied to stay still with both eyes duct taped shut. He was the one pleading with the Joker who stood about three feet away with his arms crossed over his chest. His head was tilted to the side and, because of the face paint, Harley couldn't tell if he was smiling or if it was just an illusion.  
But she could guage without knowing his facial expression that this was something very bad. Probably something she shouldn't even be watching but she couldn't tear her eyes away. Her feet were glued to the floor and her curiosity ran on overdrive. A movement caught her attention and she realized one of the men was carrying a video camera. He was recording it all.  
"You don't need to kill me, they'll send you the money. I have a family!" The man screamed, growing hysterical.  
The Joker stepped forward, uncrossing his arms and leaned toward the man, smiling first at the camera.  
"I'm a sensible person. Killing isn't in the agenda tonight, Greg." He circled the man like a vulter as he continued to sob.  
The Joker turned his back to him and faced the camera. His lackey stepped back to get a wider shot.  
Harley watched as he pulled a knife from her pocket. He held it up to the camera, its tip touching his chin.  
"But..." He grinned and turned back toward the shaking victim, "not without something to show allll your friends at the station."  
Now Harley remember Joker complaining about one of his best men being shot, point blank, a few days ago. She figured this was the man who did it and she felt a pang of sorrow. He was only doing his job and they were robbing a convenience store with intent to kill any cop that got in his way. He was only defending his life. But Harley had never said a word. She wasn't stupid.  
She didn't have time to stifle the gasp that escaped her lips as Joker grabbed the mans face and dug his blade in between his lips, pushing it through the corners and up toward his cheek bones. The man seemed to convulse and couldn't get the screams out all at once. He sounded as though he were choking on the pain. His body lurched and she saw two of the other men grab each shoulder. The camera man walked around them to get a better view.Harley had seen pictures of the Joker's work but it didn't prepare her for experiencing the act in person. Her entire body went numb and she panicked when hearing her own self scream.  
Instantly, she covered her mouth and held back tears.  
The Joker stopped and turned to her. She didn't bother running back upstairs, he'd only follow.  
"Harley!" He shouted, tearing the knife out of Greg's mouth. A puddle of blood painted the floor as he held it relaxed at his side.  
"Well don't hide from us, come on." He gestured her forward.  
She tentatively stepped out from behind the wall and walked toward them. The acrid smell of blood invaded her nostrils.  
When she reached him, the Joker placed an affectionate arm over her shoulders.  
"So, what do you think?" He asked and tapped her chest with the tip of the blade, leaving little red dots on her shirt.  
She only shrugged, unable to get herself to speak clearly.  
He feigned a stunned look and stepped back, staring at her.  
"You...you want me to stop, don't you? You think this is cruel?" He accused.  
She nodded.  
"Maybe you're right. Here..." He said and reached for the gun he always kept strapped to his left calf, "Take him out of his misery." He tossed it to her and she caught it with both hands.  
He placed a hand on the small of her back and shoved her forward. She was shaking, her arms were rubber and the gun seemed awfully heavy.  
"I've never-" Harley started to explain that she'd never held a gun before much less shot one but he cut her off. He grabbed her wrists, making her flinch, and set the gun in the right position. Straigtened her arm out for her and aimed it at the man.  
She stood there with an almost out of body feeling. She had no intentions of pulling the trigger but no ideas on how to get out of this situation otherwise.  
"Do it!" The Joker shouted, angrily.  
"Shut up!" She shouted back and started to lower the gun.  
"Jesus Christ, Harl." He came up behind her and took her hand in his, lifted the gun and pressed his pointer finger on hers. It shot into the mans bald head and he dropped. The screams ended. Harley's eyes grew wide, her mouth dropped open. She felt warm spots on her skin where blood had sprayed. The Joker let go of her hand and took the gun back.  
The camera man stopped filming.  
Harley turned and ran, she bounded up the stairs and into the bedroom. Once inside she sat on the edge of the bed and curled up with her arms wrapped around her knees, head bowed down. Tears streamed down her face uncontrollably. She heard the Joker follow her, his feet calmly climbing the steps. Harley lifted her head but could barely make him out through tear fogged eyes.  
He stood over her then slapped her across the face..Her head snapped to the side and she covered her hot check with a hand.  
He grabbed her wrist and pulled her towards him.  
"I don't really remember anyone ever in my whole entire life telling me to shut up." He growled but Harley kept her face turned away. He let go of her arm, which was starting to bruise, and wiped stray blood off of her forehead. "What, you're sad now?" He asked.  
She didn't answer.  
He grabbed her chin and forced her to look at him.  
"Can't keep around dead weight, princess. You see all these things I give you?" He gestured around the room. "It doesn't come for free."  
She closed her eyes, praying he'd leave.  
"Prices are paid, yadda yadda yadda, and if you don't get your shit together you'll be gone as quick as he was. Clear?" He waited for an aswer again but she stayed still.  
He sighed, "Now why don't you change into something pretty for me? Hm?" He gave her thigh a slap and walked out the door, shutting it behind him.


	9. Chapter 9

Annabelle was curled into the corner of a blue floral love seat. The lights were off and the only thing noticeable in her small but cozy livingroom was the television flickering. Gotham news was playing before her with the volume turned almost on mute. She wasn't listening. She wore her deceased husbands old flannel, buttoned all the way up, and a pair of his weekend sweat pants. They were three years old now and the pants had developed holes near the ankles. It didn't matter and she would probably continue wearing his clothes until the day she died, herself.

She'd had a hard day at work, things just weren't the same since the Joker escaped almost two months ago. Everyone was tense and jittery. On edge. People were angry with the police, angry that their city was in a constant state of panic and angry at the Batman for not finding him quick enough.

The Joker's psychologist had gone missing the day after he broke out. That was always on Annabelle's mind from the moment she walked through those damned institution doors until she left at the end of the day. Harleen was young and intelligent. She reminded Annabelle of herself at that age in the way that she was so headstrong and determined. Fresh out of school and positive. When was the last time Annabelle felt positive about anything? Years ago, when her marriage was strong. When she still had someone to rely on.

Now it was just her and her cat, Tinkerbell, who was currently ignoring her in her little pink cat bed in the kitchen.

Annabelle thought about the Joker. She was curious about him, like most other people in that city. Rumors of his intelligence made their rounds at the office, the tests they gave him proved his IQ to be relatively high but for such a smart man he was unquestionably violent. Vicious. Evil. She shuddered thinking about it. She was lucky enough never to have to go to the restricted section of Arkham and run into him, since her expertise lied mostly with children of abuse. She stayed mainly in the youth section of the ward and worked with five to twelve year olds.

That was a tough job in itself, having to hear stories of abuse in all forms. Stories that collected in her mind for years. She tried to think of it as a job and nothing more but it would take a cold person not to feel something for those kids. You couldn't lock your heart up and she often cried with the children who broke down. Not as hard as they did, of course, she had to keep some composure. But her heart broke with all of them.

Annabelle stopped those thoughts. She was depressing herself again. She turned her attention back to the Tv and turned the volume up. The timer in the programs right corner read ten thirty. Almost time for bed.

Suddenly the screen cut out, then went fuzzy and a new image replaced the news. Annabelle straitened.

It was another one of Joker's 'interviews' as he called them. He was notorious for kid napping someone, usually a part of Gotham's anti-crime force, and torturing them on air. Then making outlandish demands to toy with the public. Everyone fed into it and there were even some twisted folks that posted snippets from the videos on YouTube. A website that hosted homemade videos by people around the world. The Joker was becoming somewhat famous...like a walking car crash people couldn't stop watching.

"I won't kill you..." The Joker was saying before brandishing the infamous knife. Annabelle was tempted to turn it off, unwilling to give into the ego trip but she didn't. Morbid curiosity got the better of her as she watched the brutal act unfold.

She almost shrieked when catching sigt of Dr. Quinzel. Her friend, her co-worker was suddenly in the video looking thoroughly frightened. She held a gun but the Joker was forcing her to do it. Her aim was shaky, he was smiling at the camera seemingly proud to show her off. 'Look what I did' was the exact expression on his face.

Before she was able to brace herself, Annabelle saw her friend shoot the man dead, with some angry help from that villian. The look on her face afterwards almost made her own heart stop. Harleen's face went white with the realization of what happened. Blood splattered on her skin and lips and she looked like a child just then. But the way the Joker looked at her, when his hand touched her back...a little too low to be impersonal. It set an alarm off in Annabelle's mind.

There was no chance to rewind or get a better glimpse at what their relationship might be. The program cut out again and the screen went to black. She tried flipping the channels to another news cast but all of the main channels were down.

Annabelle sat there, taking it all in.

Her fear for Dr. Quinzel was palpable.


	10. Chapter 10

"You can't call anyone." The Joker said while searching through someone's wallet. He was sitting at a table and chair set up in one of the downstairs rooms toward the far back of the building. His jacket was off, the sleeves of his shirt were rolled up but he kept the purple gloves on. He flipped through cards and tossed some to the floor. He placed others, including a picture I.D, in a stack to his right.

"I wasn't asking permission." Harley said tentatively. She'd been dying to get in contact with her mother for days to make sure she wasn't worried. Obviously, Harley couldn't disclose where she was but she could at least let her know she was safe. Safe in a relative sense.

He looked up at her and squinted.

"If you didn't need permission then you would've done it already."

"I don't have a phone."

"That's right." He said and went back to what he was doing.

Harley refused to back down this time. She would have to take a stand at some point. Better now than later.

"If you don't let me contact my family then I'll leave you and this whole depressing place..." She waved a hand in the air, "All together."

The Joker tossed the wallet on to the table and tilted his head back in frustration. He closed his eyes for a moment, then sat up and focused on her.

"You know where the door is. I'm not tying you down...unless you want me to." He grinned.

She turned to leave but he grabbed her arm and roughly pulled her back. Harley attempted to struggle but gave up easily.

"Buttercup, you've been making some rash decisions lately." He said, not loosening his hold, "and i'm starting to think you're unhappy."

"I'm unhappy being locked up here like a prisoner." She said and he finally let her go. He slammed his hand on the table, making her jump. Harley took a step back.

"Well, it's settled then." He announced. "You'll come with me on the job. But I can't pay you in anything but sex."

She didn't think he was serious and resented being made fun of.

"Ha, ha."

He arched an eyebrow.

"You got so good at killing people I figured you might wanna go out like a professional."

The Joker was referrig to what happened a week ago. What they videotapped and what the whole world had seen. That was one of the reasons Harley needed to talk to her family. She didn't want them to think she'd become a lunatic like her beloved new boyfriend. She wasn't like him, she wasn't proud of hurting people. And he knew talking about it unnerved her.

She rolled her eyes. "Oh, I'll never be as good at it as you, pudding." Her voice was sarcastic and it was the first time she dared talk back to him.

"Well that goes without saying. But you can learn. Five useless lives from now you'll be numb to it. Like me."

"I don't want to be like you." It was a simple but cutting remark and the Joker took it exactly how it was meant.

He got up from his seat and grabbed her hair, pulling at the roots and dragged her to the staircase.

"Maybe you'd better sleep this off before you say something really, really stupid." He hissed.

When he released her she turned and shoved him. Instantly, she knew she'd made a mistake. It wasn't something Harley meant to do but a culmination of emotions that couldn't be hidden anymore. It was veritable explosion of feelings starting from the day they left her apartment. But as she watched his eyes glaze over in anger never before directed at her, she cringed.

He looked away as though holding something back then a hand swung out and caught her across the face. This was the second time he had slapped her but not the first time he'd been physical. She stumbled at the sheer weight of the hit. He then took her by the shoulders and slammed her back against the wall. Harley's head made a slight connection and she squeezed her eyes shut.

He let go of her but leaned against the wall with both hands on either side of her, pinning her there without force.

"I'm nothing if not patient." He began, "And I think you're worth being patient for." He brushed a stand of hair from her eyes. "But, Dr. Quinzel, I'm not gonna wait forever. You still have a choice...stay or go. But if you stay you'll shut that little mouth and speak when you have something nice to say."

"And if I leave." She whispered, she was getting a headache but couldn't tell if it was from the fight or nerves.

"I'll kill you. And your family. And Chad." It was the first time he'd mentioned her ex in a while. Harley always wondered if there was jealousy somewhere inside him. Which seemed strange. The Joker tended to drive on anger, fury, sexuality and greed but never jealousy.

She sighed and fought back tears. Harley loved him. She loved him for unexplained reasons and she was probably the dumbest person in the world. After everything she still wanted to stay and to be honest, she would stay whether he gave her phone privileges or not. As much as she complained about how he monitored her she truely liked the attention. Abusive it was but it was also intense. She liked that.

"So?" He leaned in and asked against her neck.

His breath made her entire body tingle and she couldn't stop herself from giving into him.

"Guess I'll stay."

He kissed her neck then and trailed down to her collar bone before kissing her full on the lips. It wasn't gentle or sensuous but demanding. Hungry. He parted her mouth with his tongue and she let out a soft moan. The Joker ravaged her mouth before sliding a hand down her breast to her waist and up her skirt. He slid his hand expertly into her panties and his finger teased her. Playing with her clit lightly enough to make her arch to him.

He broke the kiss and took her by the hips to turn her around, he forehead was against the wall. He moved her hair to rest on her shoulder and kissed the back of her neck. Harley moaned again, this time a little louder and she heard him unbuckle his pants. The sheer sound of it made her wet.

He lifted her skirt and pulled down her underwear. She held her breath as he pushed up against Harley, forcing her into the wall, and spread her legs wider with his knee. He had one hand on the wall the other placed on her hip as he entered her. He slammed into her as he always did, unable to take his time in the beginning but then moved slowly. His breath picked up and he was biting her neck now. Harley was practically panting with each thrust and tried to move with him but he steadied her with his hand.

As each minute passed he moved faster, grunting now and pushing her further into the wall until Harley was almost uncomfortable. He moved his hand from her hip to her belly and moved it lower until he was rubbing her clitoris. He knew what to do to make her come and she did- hard. He stopped for a moment so she could feel the full pleasure of the orgasm around him but started again quickly. He was rough now, pounding into her until he finally pulled out.

Harley was confused for a second before she felt the warmth of his own orgasm on her butt cheek.

They stood there for a while, his forehead on her left shoulder. His hands found hers and he held them for moment. But not too long before letting go again and pulling away from her. She went to their bathroom upstairs without looking at him and he straitened up and went back to the table.

Once upstairs, Harley closed the door to their bedroom and made her way to the shower. She turned the water on hotter than usual and stepped inside, letting it pour down her hair and cover her face completely. Her body still ached from the fight and her headache was turning into a migrane.


	11. Chapter 11

Annabelle stood on que at the bank, fiddling with the withdrawl slip between her fingers. It was a bright day in Gotham and singing birds flocked around the bank's steps. People strolled by in tank tops and short sleeves. Couple's kissed in front of department stores and coffee shops. It was a lazy but beautiful Saturday morning and Annabelle was eager to get done with her chores and do a little antique shopping in Chester which was three hours away. She planned on the long drive and decided to stay overnight at a bed and breakfast, finally arriving home to Tinkerbell late in the afternoon.

She looked around at the fellow customers and cringed inwardly seeing the long line ahead of her. Her husband had always told her not to go on weekends or Friday's when the bank was busiest. It was just a hassle. If he were alive today, he would have shaken his head at her over their morning coffee, tsk tsk-ing.

Annabelle sighed and tapped her foot.

The line inched forward in an incredibly slow fashion and her eyes traveled to the picturesque glass doors at the front of the building. She watched an assortment of cars come up and park, some pulling through to the drive-through teller. Annabelle caught site of a black van as it drove up to the bank and parked right in front of the steps. It seemed out pf place but she couldn't tell why. Maybe because noone really parked there. Or something else...

She turned then, because it was finally her turn in line so Annabelle didn't see the seven masked men run in. She didn't see the guns they carried and wasn't prepared when they yelled for everyone to get down. She didn't understand them at first and one pushed her down. She hit her head on the wall as she fell.

"Everyone down. Down!" The taller of them shouted as three ran into the back rooms, wasting no time.

Annabelle huddled on the floor in fetal position, the way everyone else was. People whispered calming words to each other as the robbers made their rounds, making sure everyone stayed put. Children cried as frightened mothers hushed them. Begged them to stop. Annabelle prayed noone got hurt. She realized, in morbid humor, that if she'd only taken her late husband's advice she wouldn't be in the predicament in the first place.

The whole ordeal didn't take long. The robbers ran out, but noticeably fewer than who came in. Heaping bags were lugged from one person to another and it was rushed but organized. They were almost gone and everyone waited on baited breath as they watched the movement from the floor.

It was then that Annabelle noticed a shock of green hair peeking from beneath one of the mask. His walk was unusual and it was a fashion she'd remembered from news reports. As he passed by her, being the last of the men to leave, she looked up and saw a flash of stark white skin around his neck where the mask didn't cover. it was obvious then who was behind the crime.

Annabelle was impulsive and it sometimes got the better of her. She often had trouble thinking before speaking.

"You have Harleen." She said. It wasn't a scream or a yell. Just a sentence that escaped her and was immediately regretted.

The man stopped and turned. He looked down on her. His head tilted to the side ominously, the mask he wore was of a clown who's expression was sinister and angry. Very fitting.

"No, I have Harley." He replied, and lifted the gun to her temple.

Some of the surveillance video, what was suitable for air, was shown on the ten o'clock news that night. Harley sat in one of the downstairs rooms they were converting into a livingroom. It was large, the equivelant of two and a half regular sized living rooms, and pretty couches graced each wall. Ornate chairs sat in the corners and glass end tables adorned each side of the large couch Harley sat on.

She barely blinked while watching the show. Reporter Bill Wiley was interviewing a young mother with a two year old baby perched on her hip. Her eyes were tear filled and she placed a hand over her chest while she shook her head, retelling the horrific event. Apparently she was there during the whole thing.

Footage skipped to more surveillance. Fuzzy forms rushed into the building, masks Harley had seen before it happened, on their faces. The men spread out to their assigned positions and it all went down much quicker then anticipated. The Joker had allowed one cell phone call to her to let her know how easy it had been. How many of his men he got rid of and who. Harley had nodded without saying anything and he went on, seemingly uninterested in her comments anyway. He was still high off of the act. She was originally set up to go with them but days of complaining got her out of it. The Joker threatened her again. Mentioned something about 'dead weight' and how she should stop being so spoiled. His words were idle and Harley was pretty adept at knowing how to shut him up.

A new reporter went on to say that most of the killings were that of the criminals themselves, which was a trademark of Joker's. People were already speculating he was involved. As information unfolded about a death that wasn't apart of Joker's group, her eyes widened.

"Her name was Annabelle Myers and she was a counselor employed at Arkham. She was a widower and only three years away from retirement..." The woman droned on.

Harley gasped and placed a hand over her mouth.

"...police are not only questioning whether this was, in fact, the work of the Joker but if she was an actual target..."

Scene after scene played before her eyes. Harley flipped channels as though trying to block what had happened. She landed on CNN just as video of the Joker holding a gun to Annabelle's head aired. The film was blurry and hard to make out but the fear from Annabelle's eyes still translated. Something was said. The woman's lips moved through the static in a short sentence. They were facing each other and it almost seemed like they may have argued about something- but what? She saw the mask move as Joker responded and then the clip stopped.

And it was clear why.

Harley was off of the couch in pure adrenalin and running upstairs. Her movements were mechanical and numb. She threw open the bedroom door and grabbed an empty duffel bag from the closet floor. She tossed outfits into it without really paying attention to what they were and dragged the bag over to their dresser. Hand fulls of under garments were shoved into the front zippered pockets. Harley then made her way to the bathroom and threw her hairbrush, toothbrush and a couple cosmetics into the bag before zipping it closed.

She shrugged the padded strap onto her shoulder and flew down the stairs again. Harley was back in the livingroom, television still on, as she lifted up an antique vase in the center of the coffee table to steal a key from under it. She then jogged to a locked door at the far right of the warehouse and opened it to reveal piles of cash. Stolen trinkets, jewelry set aside to be sold on the black market. Documents, credit cards. Things the Joker found invaluable and only Harley knew about.

She placed a small stack of fifties into the duffel and left. The Joker would be home soon, after rationing out their money...or cheating his 'employees' as usual. He couldn't find her skipping out. Just couldn't. Lately, he'd been more violent towards her and she didn't want to think about what he would do when he realized she was gone for good. But Annabelle's death was the last straw. That woman was innocent and Harley had truly liked her. It was as though the Joker was determined not only kill her past but her spirit as well.

Three long blocks later found Harley hailing a cab on the side of a road. Twenty minutes after that, she was driving down Central Avenue and heading toward Chad's place.

It was an awful and unfair position to put him in but Harley had nowhere else to go. She knew he would protect her if she needed it, he would hide her and not call the police until she was ready- who knew when that would be? Harley wasn't sure what she wanted but she couldn't face the Joker when he showed up home. She couldn't look at the pleased expression on his face and wanted to forget every word that reporter had said.

The cell phone in her pocket lit up and vibrated. She let it go to voice mail knowing that it would make him mad. Knowing he'd be furious the longer he waited for her to answer. When it stopped ringing, Harley's own heart felt like it stopped and she almost jumped when it started again. Her skin crawled. It was as though the ring had an emotion and it burned into her hip.

When they finally pulled up to the side of Chad's house, the Joker had called five times. Two messages were saved for her if she dared listen to them later. She likely wouldn't.

She glanced around after paying the fare and fully getting out of the backseat. Certain there was noone there who'd recognize her, she let her long blond hair fall over her face as she bowed slightly in a jog up his front steps. As Harley knocked on his door she let familiar feelings wash over her. Excitement at seeing his happy face, the comfort of his slightly disheveled bachelor pad. Of course, he could turn her away in anger but he'd probably be more relieved she was alive.

After waiting a moment she knocked on the door again, the cell phone alive in her pocket.

Chad finally opened the door.


	12. Chapter 12

The Joker stood in an alley between Rite Aid and a gas station. A rusty chain link fence with dying shrubbery threaded through separated the two places and he leaned against it. It bent to his weight slightly and let out a dull groan. He glared at the cell phone in his hand and willed Harley to call him back. Or answer. Or pick up and hang up. Give him some sort of acknowledgment and the fact that she was flat out ignoring him made him furious...until a thought came to mind. Maybe she couldn't answer. Maybe she was hurt. It was entirely out of character for her to do something like this. Harley was devoted in a way that bordered obsessive and they both knew it. The joker flourished in the attention she so completely gave.

So maybe she'd been killed. The idea made him uncomfortable and he flipped open the phone again, finding her number easily in the address book. It was filed under 'mine'. As obsessed as she was with him he was equally as obsessed, but in a different way. His was more subtle and controlled, missed if you didn't squint.

He pressed the phone to his ear as his eyes scanned the area around him. He was always alert. Always aware of his surroundings. He watched his men in an old and inconspicuous silver Toyota without them realizing. They we being loud and obnoxious and the Joker could tell, even through rolled up windows, that they were bragging about the heist. This would need correcting soon. The fact that he was too tied up with woman drama to handle buisness irritated him all the more. He would have to get rid of another one of his crew to set an example but that wouldn't be too much of a problem. People were easy to recruit, easy to convince. And the Joker was fairly good with persuasion.

Harley didn't answer. Clearly he'd have to find her the hard way.

He skulked out of the alley and opened the backdoor of the car, the men's laughter filled the air, and he slammed it shut behind him. They lowered their voices and regarded him tensely. That was part of the Joker's charm. He was intimidating without trying. They watched him reach into his inner lapel and place a lightweight handheld gun to the top of the driver's head, aiming down- making sure not to touch him. He held it there for a moment to see if he'd notice. But the man kept on chewing his gum, gazing out into nothing in particular from his window. He didn't even realize how quiet the car had become.

Joker pulled the trigger.

Nothing could be heard beyond the confines of their space due to the silencer installed at the tip. And it wouldn't matter anyway because noone was around. Everyone had scrambled to the bank to see the commotion or try to get their face on the news cameras. People were so predictable.

"Now that that's settled," Joker began, enjoying how squeamish the fellow in the passenger seat was becoming, his face tinged grey at the site of the body.

"The shares become increased with every person that decides this just isn't for him." He gestured towards the driver who's head lay on the steering wheel. "One less mouth to feed.."

He waited for reaction. They were all solemn except for the burley Italian who had been trying to break into the mob for years. His family wasn't born into it and the men didn't respect his groveling, though they used him as bait on several occasions. He ran on the excitement of a murder, mainly, and he was eager for any job the Joker assigned. He'd been on the Joker's team from the beginning. Now he sat smiling while the other's carefully controlled their emotions, unsure of what the Joker wanted. Scared of his hair trigger mentality.

"I don't want to keep rehashing the rules. You're all fairly smart." He was using the term lightly. He wasn't looking for intelligence when taking people on, only that animalistic quality that made for good henchmen. "But just incase..." He smiled, "No discussing what happened" The Joker's tongue darted out at the scars on his mouth and they all noticed.." Even with each other. Talk makes me itchy and want to stab people's wives and friends. After I've blown their brains all over the dashboard, of course."

The Italian looked as though he might laugh but wisely held his tongue. Everyone else kept their eyes lowered, the threat to loved ones noted..

"Ok, so...Constantine...move Jebediah out of the way and let's go." Joker said to man in front of him. He wasn't good at remembering names- that or he just didn't care. Either way, making up long and complicated ones instead amused him greatly

"Where do I put him?" The man he'd nicknamed 'Constantine' asked, nervously picking at his sleeves.

"Out the door. On the sidewalk.." The Joker tapped on the window with his gun.

One of the men made a move to help 'Constantine' but the Joker motioned him back down with a distracted hand. Watching him struggle with a body while attempting to control the vomit that was clearly threatening its way up his throat, was his idea of a good time.

Once 'Jebediah' was left on the sidewalk, he climbed carefully into the driver's seat, painfully aware of how wet it was beneath him. He took a deep breath and started the engine, eyes concentrating on the road in front of him and nothing else.

The ride was silent. Satisfied, Joker put the gun away and replaced it with his cell phone. No missed calls. Well, of course, he had the ringer on. He would have heard her call and he would have stopped mid-kill to answer it. Skimming quickly through it's settings, he found what he was looking for. A tracking device downloaded onto both phones so he'd always know where she was.

It didn't take long before he discovered her location and was almost giddy at the news.

"Change of plans." He announced to all of them, "Drive to 18 Grant Road. Near the bus station."

She was with Chad. It was the perfect excuse to get rid of him for good and make yet another example today. A perfect way to tighten the proverbial lease he had around her. She wouldn't do this again.


	13. Chapter 13

She was pinned against the wall, again. Harley was overly aware of how hot her flesh had become as her palms lay flat against the cool brick behind her. Her breathing was strained and she was panicking but there were no mantras in her head strong enough to calm the incessant pounding of her heart. She shut her eyes. How silly, as though that would make him dissappear when, if nothing else, it made her all the more vulnerable.

She swallowed.

"You always keep me on my toes, Harl. I like that. It's good for a relationship." The Joker was saying as he leaned into her more, keeping his painted mouth impossibly close to her ear. Harley's mind raced, her eyes searched for an exit but they only fell onto the gun that peeked from his jacket. It dangled before her like an omen.

"But daddy's had a hard day at work. I'm done with the bullshit." He growled.

The Joker had somehow known she left seemingly before Harley had her foot out of the door. He tracked her down and followed her, and she'd barely had time to step into Chad's place when the screech of a car could be heard from his livingroom. Chad had glanced through the curtains to see who it was but Harley was already on the phone by then, finally answering the Joker's call and speaking hushed words that noone could hear. She huddled in the corner and eyed the man she once loved while attempting to calm the other one. Chad was bathed in sunlight that poured into the room and framed his body, the familier slim form standing in front of the window in a protective manor. His head tilted to get a better look at the mysterious car parked in front but it was the voice over her cell phone that gave her an intriguing mixture of fear and comfort. She listened to his threats and sighed to herself. If she were truely trying to run away from the hold the Joker had over her then she shouldn't have dragged her ex boyfriend into this. Shouldn't have put the past into jeopardy by hiding from a future that she alone chose.

And every minute away from the Joker made her wonder if she even wanted to be gone in the first place.

He found her rushing down the staircase of Chad's home and kept her there, against the wall.

"You killed Annabelle." Harley said now, straigtening a bit.

His left arm fell to his side and he leaned down slightly to look her in the face. The black greasepaint made a perfect portrait of eyes that spoke a million different things to her. Sometimes they seemed innocent, to her own shock...mostly she imagined they probed her. Dug towards her very being and ate her up alive. It was easy to get lost in them, as cliche as it sounded, and she often let whatever she thought was behind them attack her. In an honestly welcome way. As fearsome as she was now, Harley admittedly, if only to herself, was star struck.

"Annabelle...Annabelle..." He rolled his eyes as if trying to remember the name, then brought out that menacing gun and tapped it to his temple, "Oh, her! Had to, princess, she knew too much." He placed the tip of the gun under her chin and lifted her face up.

"No she didn't." Harley braved.

He paused, keeping the gun there and stared at her. Sometimes he played games with her, as Harley thought of them, to gauge reaction. He did it to test where her trust and loyalty was and though she never put serious thought into him actually pulling the trigger, the possiblility was always there. That was the whole point. He dug the tip slightly into her jawline but she kept her features steady. Refused to flinch. He licked at the scars in the corner of his mouth.

"You're right. She didn't." The Joker said and grabbed her arm to pull her roughly from the hallway. Harley struggled at first but stopped herself. She didn't want him to get angry and find Chad and so far lucked out that he hadn't. Harley looked up at his window as Joker pushed her into the car and she caught him watching. The person she became and was hoping to hide from him was now in the open and Harley didn't have a chance to explain. Not that anything suitable really came to her thoughts. If nothing else, Harley wished she'd had the opportunity to show people what was going on in her mind. What she saw the Joker for. How far deep she was and why.

As the car jolted to a start she looked back again and watched the street fade. It was hard to make sense of all the conflicting emotions going through her every second of every day. Despair, lust, excitement, fear. Harley knew somehow that that would be the last time she ran away. She'd made a decision. She could easily have stayed with her ex and called the police. There were a lot of ways out of her situation but maybe she wasn't running from the Joker earlier that day. Maybe she was running from herself. Maybe the denial was so great and the memories of the past so bittersweet that all she could do was escape. Annabelle's death shocked her for sure but it wasn't the main reason for leaving. Only an excuse.

Harley decided then that it was time she stopped making excuses and live the path she walked.

The ride was silent and time home with the Joker was equally such. The tension between them was palpable and he avoided her that night. Not even coming to bed at all as she lay awake and stare at the window with the horrible view. Her eyes darted over the pretty furniture in such an ugly place. Tears trickled down her cheeks as she tried to push Annabelle, and everyone, from her mind. The next morning he was gone doing whatever it was he did during the day and Harley sat by herself, cross legged on the livingroom floor and watched Tv. She did that for hours, watching show after mindless show until finally deciding to go back up to bed and sleep. The depression was growing and that was the only way to alleviate it.

A strange feeling woke her up. Harley's eyelids fluttered open to reveal their bedroom shrouded in darkness. She'd been asleep for most of the day and it was dusk now. Large shadows loomed over the warehouse's floor and the once pretty furniture seemed to take on an eerie shape in front of her. A tickle on her thigh startled her and she turned quickly to see a dark figure sitting on the bed, its hand brushing feintly over her skin as though she were too delicate to touch. She knew who it was, obviously. Nobody else had the guts to enter into that room. The color of his hair only hinted in the dim atmosphere but it was enough to send that same shiver of happiness through her body. Every nerve came to life as Harley took in the nearly intimidating shape of him. His expression wasn't clear but that 

didn't matter as Harley rolled onto her back and lifted her right leg up with her bare knee exposed. Her other leg lay still. His hand found her ankle and slowly caressed its way upwards, traveling up past her knee and down her inner thigh. Harley's breath held as he skipped the area that was already aching and his fingertips past her belly button. They found their way up and over her t-shirt and wandered further until finally gently stroking her neck. It was a loving movement and Harley closed her eyes while a small and private smile swept over her face.

He grabbed her neck then and her eyes shot open. The Joker quickly straddled her body, pushing her other leg down and leaned forward, listening to her gasping breath. Both her hands worked to release his but to no avail. Harley's vision went fuzzy before he finally let her go and as she struggled to take in air he kissed her neck, strands of his hair covered her mouth and nose. She pushed them away and he grabbed her wrist and held it down to her side while he started to bite her neck. She grabbed at his hair to pull him off with her other hand but that one was held down just as easily. Joker moved from her neck, which Harley thought might be bleeding, to her mouth and then she was sure of it. His tongue forced its way past her lips and she could taste the unmistakable tang of blood as he agressively kissed her. The kiss was almost enough to take her breath away again and she felt him let go of her wrist and start to grope her breasts. It was a painful action and certainly not meant for her own pleasure. She gasped and tried to roll to the side but was shoved down instantly.

"I hear girls like you like it rough. You like danger, don't you?" He sneered.

"No." Harley managed to get out and turned her face away.

He bit her earlobe then licked it before saying, "That's why you're here, Dr. Quinzel. Don't you see?" He grabbed a chunk of her hair to keep her still.

Finding an opening through nothing short of a miracle, Harley gathered up all of her courage and kneed him in the stomach. She intended to hit the more debilitating groin area but missed somehow. Either way, the Joker doubled over in pain and she took her chance. She rolled out from under him and made her way to the edge of the bed. Unfortunately, she hadn't hit him hard enough as he grabbed her right ankle almost as soon as her left foot hit the floor. He pulled her up with strength that truely unnerved her, and mounted her again in the same position she'd just got out of. Now he held a knife to her mouth, pressing enough to cause more blood and Harley was nearly blinded with fear. Her adrenaline made her weak, not strong and no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't shut her eyes. Couldn't pretend this wasn't happening.

"Fear..." He started saying and grabbed her chin while keeping the knife pressed her her lips. "Is not bravery. Scared little mice will always be scared little mice. And, my love, it's time we set some rules."

The Joker settled himself between her legs, forcing them open as Harley still writhed beneath him. Unable to stop fighting. He finally put the knife away but kept her face firmly in place, looking at him. She was crying heavily now but hadn't noticed and it didn't make any obvious difference to the Joker.

"You leave again and I'll kill you. Simple. No more chances. No more time."

A hand moved under her to her lower back and lifted her hips toward his and Harley felt his erection.

"Then I'll set fire to his house." Joker said, meaning Chad. He pressed himself against her and her body moved to meet his willingly. Harley's tears slowing.

"Then," His voice became husky, "I'll find all of your family and murder them slowly."

Now he was grinding against her and she was starting to lose a small portion of fear to be replaced with sheer desire. Desire for what she wasn't sure- it definitly wasn't a romantic scenario.

He moved to kiss her again and this time it was one that required mutual input. His tongue was still agressive but allowed for her to toy with it back and she did. A moan escaped and his hand ran down the length of her body again, ending at her shorts which he easily removed with her panties. He lifted her shirt up to her chin without bothering to take it off fully as his teeth bit her nipples. It was almost too much pain to bear as she arched her back and felt him enter her before she realized he'd gotten his pants undone. He forced his way into her and Harley cried out while wrapping her legs around him eagerly. He moved in and out of her quickly. His movements were rushed and hard and relentless. Harley felt herself orgasm before she had time to really register everything that had happened and he took that as a que to go faster. Her hands raked his back, leaving long scratch marks along his shoulders and he made a gutteral sound in her ear that made Harley moan again.

Joker came into her as agressively as he did everything else. His hair dangled above her in a way that Harley loved and his final moan was like music.

He stayed above her for a moment and she could see his red painted grin clearly in the small amount of light creeping into the room. It was simply the sexiest thing Harley had ever seen.

When he rolled over onto his back and sighed, Harley made a split second decision. She caught sight of the handle of his gun from his pants pocket that were rumpled loosely around his waist. Before leaving time to think about it, Harley pulled her shirt back down and grabbed it. She straddled him the way he had just done to her and pointed it at his forehead, both hands holding the gun steady. Harley felt good, her movements were smooth and one could almost think she wasn't scared. That she'd planned it all to work out that way.

She stared directly into eyes she could barely make out in the dark and pressed the point of the gun to his skin.

"One day I'll take you off guard...just like this. And kill you. And I'll burn down this building." She said evenly, mocking his 'rules'. "And your body with it."

The Joker was still and deadly silent. Harley almost wondered if he was still alive but dismissed the thought when she felt the small rise and fall of his breathing. She counted the seconds he stayed silent and wasn't prepared when he grabbed the weapon from her and backhanded her with the handle of it. Harley fell on her side to the bed and held a hand to her face, screaming in pain.

She watched him get out of bed so casually and put his clothes back in order. He placed the gun back into his pocket as though nothing happened.

Harley closed her eyes and was soon asleep from the dizzyness of the room starting to spin, still holding her face.


End file.
